


I Used to Think Dimensional Travel Was Cool

by EyesOfCrows



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dimension Travel, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Self-Blame, Self-Doubt, Slight Canon Divergence, i dunno rlly, spideytorch - Freeform, whump?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesOfCrows/pseuds/EyesOfCrows
Summary: After a small fight with Johnny, Peter decides to head to Miles' dimension to clear his head a bit. An issue arises and Peter finds himself back in his dimension much later than he intended. How will he deal with knowing he willingly left his family and friends without a second thought? How can he ever face Johnny again?
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Mary Jane Watson, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71
Collections: Veuxliretimetravelmarvel





	I Used to Think Dimensional Travel Was Cool

**Author's Note:**

> So I took creative liberties while writing this. Just know Johnny and Peter are adults and know each other's identities. First time trying to right confessions so it could be a little wonky.

_**March 26, 7:30 PM** _

Peter Parker was having a rough week: he barely had a blink of sleep, he was yelled at several times at work, he had to miss weekly brunch with Aunt May, and, the latest, he lost a fight to the _Lizard._ It was embarrassing enough to be scolded on the format of his paper, but defeated by an _eight-feet reptile?_ He even got away!

He ate his burger angrily from the top of the Statue of Liberty. His legs hung loosely over the crown and his whole body in a slouch. It looked as if he was going to teeter off the edge, but he knew he would never really fall.

This could have been a moment’s rest, if not for _Johnny Storm_ blabbering on about his troubles with his sister. 

They’d originally met up to track down some alien crime leader that had connections within New York, but the topic was exhausted after a few minutes. Not enough information, too many _Storm_ issues.

“-and she had the _gall_ to say it was irresponsible of me to touch the intergalactic fire as if I’m not constantly over two thousand degrees!” Johnny complained. Usually, Peter would make a joke or a hum of agreement, but he wasn’t in the mood. 

Unfortunately, Johnny took notice of the uncharacteristic behavior.

He peaked over to Peter’s half-masked face. “You okay, webhead?”

“I’m good.” He said with finality, biting another harsh bite into his food. 

He looked over New York City, the sun about an hour from setting. The view would normally calm him, seeing his city in pristine light and glory. But the light now shone far too bright and the yellows and oranges prickled at his eyes. The only comfort he received was the quiet, but even that was hard to latch onto.

The flame-brain started to whistle, reminding Peter of a high-pitch kettle. Everything seemed so irritating at the moment and he couldn’t help his expression from turning lour.

“Would you stop that?” He asked annoyed, turning his head to give a glare at the other man. Not that it could even be seen through his opaque lenses.

Johnny was, understandably, shocked. His own face turned sour, “Whoa, what’s gotten you so pissed? You’ve been acting like a jerk all week!”

And that was what made him snap. Johnny was acting like it was _his fault_ that everything bad was happening. _His fault_ that he missed all of his friends’ plans. _His fault_ he couldn’t catch a fucking break! Deep down, Peter knew that wasn’t what he meant. That he didn’t know the full story and it’d be better to sit down calmly and explain that things haven’t been going well.

_But fuck that. He had misplaced anger and he was going to use it._

He placed his burger down and flipped back onto the center of the head. Johnny’s eyes followed him and he glared furiously back. He needed to get Johnny to understand his rage.

Oh, but his resolve nearly crumbled as he saw concern laced with Johnny’s annoyance. The sun outlined his figure and the wind lightly blew at his golden hair. He knew the hothead’s temper, that he was quick to anger. He knew how to defuse the situation in a matter of seconds because he knew Johnny that much. Unluckily, he kept his composure.

“It’s not my fault the entirety of New York is a _nuisance.”_ He snapped, slamming a hand at his chest. His mouth formed a scowl and his vision had gone more red than yellow.

Torchy mirrored the aggression, “And that’s _my_ fault?”

“I’m saying you should _lay off_ , Matchstick.” 

Johnny took a fierce step forward, heat radiating from him. His eyes flared with anger and confusion and so many that Peter looked away before his mind caught up with his emotions.

“Just tell me what’s going on! Christ, Pete!” He yelled out, but there was something placate about his words that made Peter queasy inside.

“Nothing’s wrong!” He insisted. “Why do I need to tell you anything?”

“Something’s obviously wrong. You're behaving like a _douche_ to me.”

Peter jabbed a finger at Johnny. “There's more to life than _you.”_

And then hurt flashed on the boom and he jerked back as if struck. Peter almost reached out, wanting to catch him if he fell, but Johnny bounced back with more fueled ferocity.

Johnny scoffed, “Fuck you, Parker. Flame on.” He burst into flames and flew several feet above Peter before looking down. “Tell me when you get that stick out of your ass.” And promptly flew off, a dark stream of smoke following behind.

Peter let out an enraged scream as soon as he saw the bright figure turn nothing more than a speck. He had half the mind to slam his hands onto the ground beneath him, but he held himself back. Hours past and he was back in his lonely, studio apartment. He was still angry or at least trying to hold onto the anger. If he stopped being angry, all the things he’d said in the week would fly back to him and he’d surely feel the guilt that crashed at the shores of his mind. 

He growled loudly and threw his Spider-Man outfit into the closet where he kept all of his hero techs. He’d ripped some of it after battling a knife-holding mugger. The forearm showed large tears and beaded with blood. It was a small closet, fashioned with shelves and a metallic pegboard. Old devices grew dust in tiny display cases and situation-specific tech hung around. He’d spent over a week organizing it, but it still managed to luck like a cluttered mess. It didn’t matter, he knew where everything was anyway.

“If I could just get _time_ to think,” Peter mumbled while taking off his mask and flinging it randomly. 

He let out a sigh and took a hanger from the floor, wedged between a Spider-Spacesuit and some ancient sword. He grabbed the discarded outfit and the mask but paused when he saw what was underneath it.

A metallic mass of a watch took his sight, a glass dome instead of a clock. _The Web Watch_.

It was a dimensional travel watch he’d use occasionally to check on the other Spider-Men and Women… and others. Sometimes the multiverse needed his help and that was his usual ticket. Recently the multiverse had calmed down, so Peter would use it to visit his favorite Kid Arachnid, Miles Morales. The kid still had some way to go and was genuinely grateful for Peter’s visits. They’d play video games together, listen to each other’s world’s music, and train their powers. He was having a rough time with web-crawling and super-strength last time he’d heard, ripping concrete off buildings by accident.

He picked it up, remembering that dimensional travel was always in flux. Dimensions moved, they change, they warp differently depending on the world. _Which was perfect._

“Miles wouldn’t mind me staying a week…” he muttered, staring deeper at it. Inching closer to it. His fingers almost wrapped around the metal. He pulled back when he realized he had to think rationally.

The last time he’d visited, he was only gone for an hour, when he had actually stayed at Miles’ for a day. Sometimes he was gone for a minute. Sometimes it was only a day. It wasn’t a concrete science, but that meant he’d have _time._

Peter had never spent more than a week out in another person’s dimension willfully. But a week was all he needed, he just needed a week to think things through and come back as if it never happened.

He pushed aside some relics and grabbed a duffle bag on one of the shelves. It was for emergencies if his apartment ever was compromised. Change of clothes, extra suit and webs, money, fake ID, and a bunch more. He’d pulled a few strings for the ID, but it was worth it for the chance anything might happen.

He grabbed the watch and strapped it on. He plugged in the numbers for the dimension and clicked it fast, trying to stop the second thoughts that were crawling to his mind.

_Miles won’t mind a week._

————————————

Peter stayed for a month. 

He didn’t mean to stay that long, but it was one part Miles’ fault and one part his. 

Miles, after the first week needed, pleaded for him to stay until at least his birthday. Apparently, the kid’s birthday was a couple of days away and Peter hadn’t been able to visit the last time. The kid was turning seventeen! Four years of Spider-Man-ing deserved a celebration.

The other half was because he enjoyed how easy life was in this dimension. He’d gotten a job as a barista, even with his extreme clumsiness, and had an okay apartment. He _was_ going to stay at a motel the entire time, but he changed pace during the second week. It was just temporary. It made changing costumes a lot easier if he had to give a reason. He still went as Spider-Man at night, helping Miles clean up the streets. It was fun to see how similar yet different their villains could be.

But he had to go back, he knew he had enough time to cool down and the life was fun, but it wasn’t _his_ life.

He missed his Aunt May. He missed texting MJ. He missed _Johnny Storm._ He had thought long enough that he knew to apologize to him.

He had an entire month to mull over the fact he messed up with the flame-brain. He acted irrational, impulsively, and jerk-ish. It was unfair to take it out on him, so Peter planned to take Johnny to Lady Liberty with an apology spicy chicken and laugh the night away.

“Awe, dude, you're going?” Miles whined as they were playing video games on Peter’s couch. Peter had told him after Miles lost the match against the boss.

“Yup,” Peter replied, cracking a coke atop the kitchen island. The brand wasn’t like his world’s, faintly tasting like cinnamon and much bubblier. “Need to head back and check up on the ol’ city.”

“Lame,” Miles rolled his eyes.

“Hey! You’re lucky I stayed as long as I did. If only the _birthday boy_ didn’t cry that his favorite Spider-Man couldn’t make it.”

“We both know Gwen’s my favorite Spider.” They shared a laugh.

Miles was nice, he reminded Peter of… well not _himself._ He was a skittery, oblivious, smart-ass when he was a kid. Miles was like a cool little brother. Peter had taught the guy new web-formulas and nearly broke at laughing at how much wonder was in the Spiderling’s eyes. Miles was more into math than science, so seeing chemicals combined to make a new type of web was magical to the teen.

The kid was still learning with his powers, as any Kid Arachnid should do. Even if he was a Spider-Kid since he was thirteen years old, it was still a constant experience. Sometimes he’d have to control his temper so he wouldn’t squash anything with his enhanced strength, accidentally turn invisible if he was nervous, or forget to call his mother. It was a learning experience.

“What’re you gonna do about the apartment?” Miles idly questioned, repeatedly pressing the same button on the controller.

Peter took a small sip from his drink, “I already turned the key in, gave a notice of my leaving, and now I just need to pack everything up.”

“And the job?”

“Basically the same thing, quit and left.”

Miles let out a low whistle, before cursing when his character died again. “It was really cool that you stayed, Pete.”

“Hey, you’re the guy that helped me through my helluva week. Landed me the job too.” Peter thanked him. He owed a lot to Miles, which he returned with training and video games.

The kid was much more social than he’d ever been. He’d known the manager because he occasionally tutored the man’s son. The apartment was from some connection that his mom’s friend’s brother had. Everything slipped into so easily that Peter barely had time to realize he went from living on cup noodles in a nearly-rundown motel to living on bagels in a decently sized apartment.

“Yeah, I’m great, aren’t I?” Miles smirked with faux-pride. It had Peter rolling his eyes too, taking a long gulp of his sugary drink afterward. Man, he was going to miss the weird aftertaste it had.

Peter hummed as he stood on his feet and opened the fridge. It only had two eggs and half a carton of milk left. He hadn’t bought groceries—he’d been planning to leave at the beginning of the week—and he didn’t like leaving it to waste. He’d probably bestow it to Miles. He closed it and walked to the area to the left of the television, watching Miles’ eyes trained on the screen.

“You wanna help me pack?”

Miles groaned, pausing the game just to give Peter a dead-eyed stare. “C’mon man, I just got off of a test today.”

“I’ll give you the console.”

“...so where’s the suitcase?” 

They spend the next hour just putting things away, not as if Peter kept too many things. The most he had, other than the things he came with, were a couple of new shirts and some science books. He did manage to replace the battered duffle bag with a shiny, red suitcase, an improvement if you asked Miles. Peter thought it was a waste of money.

He sat down with the Web Watch. Miles had asked to come with, just to visit for a second, but Peter refused. It was only an hour for _his_ dimension, not Miles’. A single moment could be an entire year for him, or maybe not. Dimensional travel was weird. Doctor Strange would always warn him about the, well, strangeness of it.

“See you around, Kid Arachnid.” He saluted playfully, the watch readily on his wrist. 

That earned a chuckle from the younger boy. “I hope so, Spider-Man.”

With a flash of light, Peter found himself in his apartment—which he realized was slightly shittier than his one at Miles’, a very sobering realization he had to admit—again. 

_Home,_ he smiled, breathing in the musk and stench of metal and old leather. He turned to his bedside table, peering at the digital clock.

_**March 27, 10:33 AM** _

**__**_Sweet! I’ve only been gone a day!_ he thought happily. He had been so nervous that the effects of staying too long in another dimension would mess up time.

He walked through his house, wanting to roam around a bit and indulge in every bit of his apartment. It was his home after all, even if it felt lonely. Though he’d noticed strange things when walking to his living room from his cramped bedroom. Everything was… cleaner. He could have sworn there were old dishes and chip bags on the crooked coffee table. The messy bookshelf that was constantly in disarray was organized alphabetically. Maybe he had done something before he left, angry cleaning perhaps? He couldn’t recall.

He stared out the large window next to his television and was pleasantly content that everything _wasn’t_ in flames. New York survived a day without him, lucky them.

Peter dug out a burner phone from his pocket, frowning as the date read _April 24._ He’d have to have that changed now he was back. It didn’t matter too much, he was going to reschedule brunch with Aunt May like he was planning to. Heaven knows that she loved Peter. It was the right thing to do.

He dialed the memorized number, happy to hear she picked up.

“Hey, Aunt May,” Peter started. “I was thinking about rescheduling the brunch on Wednesday. I just wanted to know if you had any plans or if-“

A choking sob interrupted him. He froze as it engulfed every sense. 

“Aunt May?” He asked in concern, but she continued to cry. What had happened while he was gone?

He spoke comforting words to her, ‘it’ll be okay’ and ‘I’m here for you,’ and slowly her cries drew quieter. She spoke some gasping breaths as if trying to push herself to say something.

“P-Peter-“ she croaked out, voice hoarse. “Where have you _been?”_

His mind went a mile a minute. Someone had happened in the hours he’d been gone, something terrible enough to make May cry.

“I’ve been… away.” He winced in his own guilt. He looked back out the window, wary of if it was as ‘perfect’ as he thought it had been. “What… what happened?”

_“Petey, you’ve been missing for a **year.** ”_

————————————

He was at Aunt May’s place. They took turns crying because Peter didn’t mean to leave his family alone for a year. He _abandoned_ New York because he had one bad week. 

_Damn interdimensional travel._

He’d been away for a year, no Spider-Man at all. New York was fine though, a few of the other dozen New York-based heroes took the mantle. The crime rate was slightly higher than before, even with the excess heroes. Crimes _he_ could have stopped.

“We tried to find you. For months, we looked relentlessly. After the seventh, people stopped. Eventually, it was just a handful of people that held out.” May said quietly, hands on a cup of tea that she prepared.

He’d been reported missing on April 2. They’d trace the day he disappeared to March 26. It only made sense that it took them a week to find out he was gone, he’d left so many times before. It stung like a flick to the wrist because he understood why.

They sat across from each other on the dinner table, a heavy atmosphere shrouding them. He couldn’t help but tap rhythmically on the table, trying to distract himself from everything.

She let out a quiet laugh, breathy and faint. “I used to think you’d fall out of that habit when you were younger,” indicating the tapping. She stared down at the tea, and Peter knew it was so she wouldn’t cry at seeing him. “I didn’t think I’d miss it this much.”

His stomach twisted and contorted with every emotion imaginable. He didn’t dare let sophistry slip through his lips or grouse the wrong line. There wasn’t a thing he could say that excuses his absence. Even so…

Peter put a hand on her’s, staring at the top of her head for her eyes still refused to meet his. 

“I’m not leaving. Not again.”

She looked up and he knew that she believed him. She was always there to believe in him. He knew May trusted him to keep the promise as if it was sworn to his grave.

They talk, and Peter tells her about Miles’ dimension, how it was, and went. He couldn’t help his boisterous attitude to Miles improving and becoming better everyday. That everything was so fascinating and different from their dimension. He felt regret swell inside as he relayed the good time he had, but May’s fond expression relieved himself of it. She was happy that he was back.

“He sounds like a nice boy,” she commented.

Peter goofily smiled back, “

His mind goes to Johnny Storm multiple times as he told story after story. How Johnny would do something stupid if he was in the situation or that he’d flash a stupid grin and talk his way out easily if he was with Peter. Every mention had Peter’s head slump back to the headrest of the chair. Sometimes he’d pause without realizing, reveries of sitting on the torch of Lady Liberty while Johnny juggled tiny balls of fire. He’d laugh at his antics and Johnny would fake a throw to Peter, but he would never let it hit him. 

He looked at Aunt May and saw how much she’d put a hand on his or stand up just to pull him into a hug. Sometimes there’d be a glaze over her eyes before she refocused all attention back on Peter. She’d ask him to keep talking and to hear him speak. 

_She was making sure he was really there._

That’s how he knew he knew he’d have to fix it.

He broke himself away from May, trying not to focus on the hurt expression of his aunt. 

“I need to go,” he said softly. “I need to find someone who might be able to fix this—so I never left in the first place. _I promise I’ll be back.”_

“You better, Peter. Who else could be here to annoy me to no end?” She attempted to joke, but it came off more lovingly and tender. It left her with watery eyes and a sad smile as if she was seeing him off again. No way he was doing that again.

————————————

“I can’t send you back.” Dr. Strange told him firmly.

They were in his Sanctum’s library, frozen in-place books scattered everywhere. Dr. Strange had been flying between them, trying to find whatever that could help Peter. Peter had been sitting in a whimsical-looking chair, half- marble half-wicker. He’d scan through some of the books, even if most of them he could not understand.

It wasn’t that much of an effort to get there, but Peter made sure to come as only _Peter._ It was still the morning and swinging around as Spider-Man at a time like that wasn’t a very good plan. 

“What do you mean, Doc? Doesn’t my year-long sabbatical affect, I don’t know, _the timeline?”_ He asked, both flabbergasted and sarcastic.

The Doctor sighed, floating down in front of Peter. “There doesn’t seem to be an error with the time stream. I would’ve been alerted as soon as one occurred.”

“Okay, so _what?_ ”

He could have sworn Strange mumbled _children_ under his breath. He was, frankly, offended. He was an adult. He had a job. _Wait, did he have a job anymore?_ He didn’t even have a job! 

“Listen, Peter, as much as I know you’d hate for me to say it, your disappearance was essential to the timeline, inter-dimensional travel or not. Several new heroes came to fruition due to your absence. People who look up to you took action. From what you told me, Miles was able to better his powers too.” Strange had explained calmly, but all it did was make Peter utterly hopeless.

He _couldn’t_ go back. He _couldn’t_ fix everything. He screwed with the world so the world screwed him ten times over. There was no going back from losing an entire year of his friends and family believing he was _dead._ How was he supposed to explain this to MJ? To every Spider-Man fan? To the Fantastic Four? _To Johnny?_

“I recommend reconnecting with your friends and family and publicly announcing your reappearance.”

Peter stiffly nodded, “Yeah…”

Strange saw the dismayed look and sighed once more. “Look, I can get some others and we can outfit you with a ‘Cosmos Captured Citizen’ badge so you integrate you back into this world. If you think it’d help.”

A ‘Cosmos Captured Citizen,’ or CCC, was given to citizens that were wrongfully taken hostage by an alien or otherworldly force for a long period of time. It’s used so the person’s absence could be excused and justified. It defended them from years of not paying taxes, being labeled as a ‘no-show employee,’ and plenty of other things. Though Peter’s situation was far from ‘wrongfully taken,’ he would feel better with the CCC papers and stamp of approval.

They also provided stickers with a cool CCC logo made from a spiral galaxy silhouette, which rocked.

“Y-you’d do that for me?” He stuttered out, unsure how to respond. 

Strange just rolled his eyes, floating back up to the high bookshelves. He’d started to put back the floating books. “You might’ve been gone for a month, but a year counts as an unwilling participant in space-time travel. In some sense, it falls under CCC.”

This definitely helped ease Peter. “Thank you! I’d like that.”

Strange turned to Peter, still many feet in the air, and smiled. “I used to despise your visits, you know. You’d waltz in and demand help with your latest magic-related problem. Now, I think, I find it somewhat comforting.”

 _Used to,_ the second time today the words were used. He didn’t like them at all.

Even so, he put on a teasing smirk, “Going soft, ay Doc?” 

The smile became a disappointed frown, though humor still danced in his eyes. “Thanks, I needed a reminder of why I despise you.” Peter howled in laughter in return.

_He’s pretending like it never happened. Like everything’s normal._

Peter ignored the thought as much as he could, but it relented. He thought he wanted the situation to be ignored, but it was somehow worse if it wasn’t addressed properly. But what was the proper way? 

“Hey, and I know it takes some time to process the files and stuff if I could get uh…”

“You want the sticker, don’t you?”

_“God, yes.”_

Now, for sure, he heard the word _children_ uttered by Strange.

————————————

 **Springing into Action ✓ @ofclspiderman** Hey citizens, not dead, just had an unplanned sabbatical! Check the bling pal _[CCC_sticker.png attached]_

 **The Avengers ✓ @AVENGERS** @ofclspiderman welcome back son

 **Daily Bugle ✓ @dailybugleNY** @ofclspiderman New York’s been doing fine while you were gone!

 **No Show Spider @spideystalk** @ofclspiderman oh my god, is this real? Are u rlly a ccc???

 **Charlow** **@hereNgoneNback** @ofclspiderman never lost fate spidey, hope ur back to stay

 **Gone Dark @mj_watson** @ofclspiderman this better not be a f*cking joke or a f*cking hacker.

 **Springing into Action ✓ @ofclspiderman** @mj_watsonnope real deal! Back for good too!

He’d scoffed at the Bugle’s passive-aggressive response. They were always trying to play while also insulting whenever they posted about Spider-Man. The Avengers one was calm, but it was assured that he’d be meeting with them at some point to give a deeper explanation.

He thumbed over the call button, thinking if he should call Mary Jane now or later. She was online, evidence by the tweet. He thought it’d be cruel to her, seeing how he’d been gone.

“Hey, MJ,” he said weakly after she answered.

He’d expected cries like Aunt May’s just a dry laugh escaped her instead. It was better than tears, but his heart still clenched at the sound.

“It’s nice to hear you, Tiger.” It crackles as she says it, feigning confidence and an even-temper. He knew her long enough to when she was faking it.

He broke down immediately, any pre-planned conversation lossed in his throat. “I’m _so_ sorry. I didn’t mean to- I was trying- I…”

He could hear the small smile that played on Mary Jane’s lips, a quiet one that rarely shows. “I know, I know. I saw the goddamn sticker, it isn’t your fault.”

Peter’s guilt bellowed loudly within. “ _But it is._ I wasn’t captured, I _left._ ” She was silent. He continued, “I was angry and mad and thought that I could leave for a while to some alternate dimension and it’d be fine. I stayed for a _month_ while an entire _year_ passed by here.”

There was a break, and he couldn’t even tell if she was still there. Neither of them dared to breathe.

Slowly, she said, “I used to patch you up every single day when we were dating. I thought you were reckless, stupid, indescribably hopeless, lacking self-preservation—“

“Real confidence boosted, pal.”

“—dork that got himself into trouble. I didn’t even believe you were _really_ missing until three weeks in, because you’d leave randomly all the time. And when your ‘leave’ became a year… I didn’t believe you’d come back this time. No one for me to clean wounds off anymore.”

 _Used to,_ he’d heard again. There was such a disdain on his tongue when they were said and he couldn’t place it. It felt cold and nagging to hear.

“Look, Pete, I’m just glad you're back.”

_No, please don’t be._

_I don’t want you to be glad, I want you to be angry._

That’s what he wanted to scream at her. He wanted _someone_ to blame him and yell at him and say that it was his fault everyone was depressed and sad. He’d done everything wrong and all anyone could do was forgive him. 

_It. Was. My. Fault._

_Itwasitwasitwasitwasitwas…_

“I’m glad too,” he choked out. “I don’t think I’m going to jump into any more universes any time soon.”

A small chuckle escaped MJ, and a flare of familiarity spread inside Peter. “Good plan, Tiger.”

_Yell at me. Complain at me. I. Am. Awful._

“Have you told anyone else?” She asked quickly, sensing the conversation going flat. She was good at noticing things like that.

“Yeah, Aunt May and Doctor Strange. And, well, the entirety of the internet. Pretty sure every news site is mass-producing my reappearance.” It was told like a joke, but it was the honest truth. TMZ, the Globe, the Bugle, and every teen worth a Twitter account were talking about Spider-Man.

He could hear a faint scuffle from the other end as if Mary Jane was nodding her head. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid of you. Reminds me of when I went off the grid for a few days because _Lindsey_ did some stupid shit.”

Peter furrowed his brow, “When did that happen?” Which was stupid to ask, seeing how he’d been gone for so long.

She made a fake sigh. “Now I’ve got to catch you up with all the _drama._ Let me tell you, I got in a few catfights while I was at Coachella…”

MJ took control of the conversation after that, unlike Aunt May. She talked about her acting career and the parts she was able to score and how she’d gotten in a kerfuffle with another celeb on Instagram. It was hardly noticeable if she even breathed between sentences. It was just like before, but the fact stabbed him rather than comfort him.

_She’s pretending it didn’t happen._

He noticed a ping from his old computer after a while, the ones he had sat before to tweet in the first place. A direct message. A very familiar name.

_**HumanTorch #FF** _

Can we meet at the usual spot?

Please?

I want to know if this is real

“…I have to go, MJ. I’ll be back.”

_Please believe me._

————————————

_**March 27 3:20 PM** _

The trip to Lady Liberty was both slow and quick. He’d taken the ferry, slipping away to the island as soon as they got close. He couldn’t even remember when he boarded the boat, just a blur of traveling to the monument. 

Time slowed after he stripped off his civvies and revealed his Spider-Man suit underneath at the base of the statue. He scaled it crawling rather than webbing his way up. He didn’t know why at first, wondering when he’d reached the back of her waist, but he realized when he saw a flicker of light from the torch.

_I’m scared._

_I don’t know what Johnny’ll think of me._

_He’ll be angry. He’s always been a hothead._

When he got to scaling up the arm, his thoughts worsened. 

_He’ll hate you._

_You’ll deserve it, you abandoned him._

_You left because you were only a_ little _upset._

He hoped that his spidey-sense would kick in, give him an excuse to jump straight into danger and run away. The tingling that’d call it’s unrefusable call. He was provided no such relief, the only feeling being his heart and his wind. 

And he’d nearly flung himself off the torch on his own when his head poked over to see the back of Johnny's figure. The hothead was snapping his hands, a nervous habit he had, and lit small candles’ worth of fire. On and off. Light then dark.

He clambered onto his feet, knowing Johnny knew he was there now. The rhythmic snap was now replaced with brushing air that tousled the blond’s hair. He still faced away, a foot away from the precipice. Peter could not recall a time that he felt so much fear and want as he felt then.

“Hey, flame brain,” Peter attempted to be nonchalant, but his voice came off too soft. “Long time no see.”

Peter took a brave step forward, betraying his mind that screamed for him to run. He brought a hand to his mask and gently peeled it off. He wanted to look at Johnny clearly, no mask obscuring his view.

Johnny remained unmoving—a strange sight, Johnny was usually lively and moving like the fire that would surround him—before turning around so abruptly that he didn’t even realize he’d done so.

His eyes were dark, circles surrounding them and shadowed heavily beneath. They were dim, like a candle drowning in its own wax. They threatened to water. His lips quivered and parted before shutting quickly. There was a shake to parts of his body; first the trembling hands, then a jittering leg, and lastly a shaking head. It didn’t look like he believed what stood before him.

“Never thought I’d make you speechless. Motormouth Johnny at a loss for words, huh?” Peter couldn’t help but quip, trying to relax the atmosphere around them.

Johnny staggered forward, an uncertainty with every step. Peter remained still as he watched Johnny approach. He suddenly put a grip on both of Peter’s shoulders, taking a sharp breath as they attached. He stared into Peter’s eyes intensely and the dull flame became glass atop his irises. With another inhale, Johnny pulled Peter into a hug, sobbing with each breath.

Peter was frozen for a moment, before hugging back with equal strength. When was the last time he’d seen Johnny? How could he forget about Johnny for a month? Why couldn’t he just _fix_ things?

_“I’m sorry.”_

Those were the first things Johnny said to him. 

He felt the claws around his heart squeezing and his heart squeaking in response. He felt tears drip off his chin—he hadn’t even realized that his blurry eyes started to leak, but he didn’t _deserve_ any relief—and his arms tighten.

“No, no, no…” Peter whispered. “You haven’t done anything. It’s my fault. I wasn’t… wasn’t thinking when I went away. I-I left and I didn’t even think twice when I did. I _should’ve. I should’ve.”_

Johnny broke the hug, stumbling a few steps backward. He looked at Peter’s face with intensity and hurt. But it wasn’t directed to _him._

“Y-you left that night, didn’t you?” Johnny’s voice was faint, but Peter could hear it perfectly well. 

Peter knew the night well, it was what pushed him over the edge to teleport. He'd pushed it so far down but it was rearing its head in the shape of the one person who didn’t deserve it. But Johnny surely couldn’t think it was _his_ fault…

Peter slowly nodded. “I-I left. I wasn’t captured. No matter what the sticker says.” It felt bad to try to joke, but he needed to. And he _wanted_ to clarify that he was the one to leave. To make it clear that it wasn’t Johnny’s fault, but Peter’s. 

Johnny laughed a hollow sound and brought his hands to the sides of his face. “I _knew it._ It was _me,_ wasn’t it? I chased you out and I-I was-“

 _You're supposed to be angry at me. I’m why you're crying. I’m the reason you’re feeling pain. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Just scream at me. Yell at me!_ His mind begged as Johnny continued. The words felt stuck in his throat and his body felt as if it was burning. 

Peter just stood shell-shocked as Johnny collapsed to his knees, his hands over his face. He sobbed as he blamed himself over and over.

“I missed you so much.” Johnny’s voice cracked. “I miss the way you used to-“

Peter couldn’t take it. Not a fourth time. Not from Johnny. He knelt to Johnny’s level and clasped over his hands tightly. He pulled Johnny’s eyes onto him, looking directly at the blue eyes he always admired. Peter couldn’t hear those words again.

“Don’t say ‘used to,’” he found himself pleading. “I’m _here._ Stop talking about me as if we won’t be able to do anything together again. I can still do every nervous habit I do, I can still barge into your house whenever I want, and you can still patch me up after I get myself into whatever trouble I always get into. _I’m still here. I’m not going away.”_ He let out the dam of emotions and cried his heart out.

He needed someone to hear that. He was so _sick_ of ‘used to.’ 

“I’m not leaving, Hot Stuff.” He whispered, moving a hand to Johnny’s cheek.

“I ditched you…” 

Peter's gaze hardened, his head turning to face the water below. He ripped his hands off Johnny, even if Johnny’s hands trailed after them. “No, you didn’t. I _left_ because I was stupid. Johnny… you should be mad at me. I left you and left you hurting and I didn’t bother at all.”

Silence befell them. It felt heavy and lasted forever, but Johnny finally spoke up.

“I… I was angry at first,” He admitted. “But I forgive you.”

Peter whipped his head back to Johnny. His words filled with anger, “You shouldn’t! I left and the only thing everyone’s doing is forgiving me! I _hurt_ May, the Doc, MJ, and even you. How could I even deserve any of that?” His voice raised, but Johnny sat unflinchingly. His hand moved to cover Peter’s.

“Because I love you, Peter.”

The words hung, letting the world see. And Johnny brought his lips to Peter’s with so much undeserved love.

But, even for that moment, he did feel like he deserved it.

He kissed back with so much force, he felt both of them topple back. Johnny on his back and Peter on top of him. Never had Peter felt so warm inside. The burning of his chest began passion and his throat was dislodged and clear. 

The nagging voice that berated him all day was silent, or Peter finally learned how to ignore it. But it wasn’t telling him all of his fears on loop anymore, and, finally, Peter felt like he could think. He could think without being attacked by his own mind and he could be free to feel love again. 

For that moment, it was just the two of them again. 

For that moment, the pain was nonexistent and it was just them against everything again.

When their lips parted, they stared at each other intensely.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pete”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

Johnny rested a hand on the back of Peter’s head. “Just promise me you won’t be going anywhere.”

“I promise.”

And for the second time that day, Peter met with eyes that completely and utterly believed him. And, for the first time that day, Peter believed it too. Eyes that loved him and cherished him without thinking twice.

And for that moment, it didn’t feel like the emotions would only last for a short time. It felt like it’d last an eternity, rather than just a moment. 

They kissed again and Johnny could barely hear what Peter said through it, but he did. And the words felt like they’d give life.

_“I love you too.”_


End file.
